


The Other Side: Part Eight

by PiscesPenName



Series: The Other Side Series [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean-Centric, F/M, Oral Sex, Sex, Sleepy Dean, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-22 02:14:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11370459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiscesPenName/pseuds/PiscesPenName
Summary: Carrie gets a text that Dean is in town after a two month-long absence. He's tired and worn and needs something only she can give.





	The Other Side: Part Eight

Carrie was almost done with her shift when her phone went off. She stopped and picked up the cell, checked her incoming text.

It was from Dean. Her heart gave a loud thump. It said _"what are you wearing?"_

She answered back. " _Sneakers, jeans, and a baggy t shirt."_

There was was a pause. Then an incoming message: "Y _ou don't know how to play this game do you?"_ She hadn't finished typing a reply when another question pinged in. _"Now what are you wearing?"_

She smirked. _"Whip cream and combat boots."_

_"That's better. What kind of whip cream?"_

She stifled a laugh, slapped her hand over her mouth. Her Co-worker cocked an eyebrow. "Who are you talking to?"

"Just some guy." Carrie answered, shouldering her bag that she'd stuffed her scrubs in.

"By your look, he's more than some guy."

Carrie flushed a little. "Shut up, Jen." She looked at the clock. "Oh look, my shift is over."

Jen raised her voice behind her. "You have to face me next week."

Carrie stuck her tongue out at her friend and hurried off down the hallway of _Jensen Memorial_.

Another text popped in. _"You free this weekend?"_

Her stomach flipped. It had only been two months since she'd last seen him. She had a feeling he was going out of his way to see her this time.

 _"Maybe."_ She texted back.

_"Please? I'll be a good boy."_

_"Only if you text me a pic of where you are."_

There was a pause and then a pic of the car interior came in.

_"You better not be texting and driving."_

_"I only do that when I've been drinking."_

_"Not funny._ " She sent back.

There was another pause as she made her way down the hallway and the elevator closed around her.

It opened again and she stepped out.

Another message pinged in. " _Miss u."_

Her heart flipped a little. She resisted the urge to text that she missed him back.

 _"How much?"_ She wrote.

_"Bout 8 inches."_

_"You're an ass."_

_"Okay fine... 7 and 3/4."_

God she loved him.

_"Meet me in our cabin?"_

_"Yes."_ She texted.

* * *

 

 

Dean was waiting when she walked in. He looked fucking gorgeous. He had on a black t-shirt and a pair of low cut jeans with a wide black leather belt. His brass amulet caught the light when he moved.

He ducked his head and licked his lips when he looked at her with a flirty smile that took her breath.

"Hi, Sweetheart."

She froze in the doorway, heart thumping. "Hi."

He turned around, wide shoulders set loosely and legs slightly apart. "C'mere."

Carrie walked over to him and melted against his chest. His smell was so fucking good. Motel soap and his aftershave and the outdoors.

He leaned down to give her a kiss and his breath tasted like whiskey. She opened her mouth to his gentle tongue. They kissed for and few moments until it began to build.

He was escalating their kiss already. Hungry passionate. She felt her heart hammer at it. There was an urgency there she hadn't felt before. A hunger.

She rose on her toes as Dean held the kiss. One second, two seconds, three... his mouth sealed against hers... just when she thought he'd release her, his tongue pressed into her and she opened for him. She could feel the heat rise to her face and her pulse pounding between her legs already. He pushed against her, all animal urgency and she finally came up for air when he pulled away for a second.

Dean... she panted. He bent over and scooped her up into his arms. She gasped at the shock of it and wrapped her arms around his neck. It felt weird to be carried. She hadn't been picked up like this since she was a child. Dean did it so easily, as if she weighed nothing. He walked over to their pile of mattresses and pillows and set her back onto her feet. She held him while she found her balance and then he was nudging her backward with his body.

"Dean."

He toppled her over and was on top of her before she knew what was going on, kissing, pressing, rubbing. She panted and tangled her fingers in his cropped hair as he dipped down and started to mouth her breast over the thin cotton of her t-shirt as his hand reached up to tug down the low v neck and move it over, exposing a nipple. His lips were on it the next second and she arched into him, looking down to see the curve of his cheekbone and the sweep of his long black lashes, his mouth on her skin suckling, teasing. His hand cupping from beneath. It was the sexiest thing she'd ever seen: his nose buried in her bosom.

"Dean." She arched under his onslaught again. Her mind still confused at his urgency.

His hand went to the button of her jeans and popped it open and his warm fingers were down the waistband of her pants before she knew it.

She gasped as he touched her. He pulled her jeans down her legs, leaning forward and planting kisses on her flat stomach as he did. He drifted lower and pulled her sneakers and jeans off, leaving on her black over the knee socks that she had on under her boot cut Levi. He looked at her, his gaze hungry.

"Oh god." He said huskily. "You lying here with no pants and just these knee highs." His hands were on the front of her thighs, kneading firmly.

"Open for me, baby," he whispered as he pulled her legs apart.

Carrie was quaking as his thumb edged under her tall sock. He leaned over and kissed the inside of her thigh, urging it over his shoulder.

She reached up and grabbed the sheets, shaking. Her whole body alive for him but also a little fearful at his intensity.  
She'd always been a participant with him but now she felt a little like a passenger.

He kissed her thigh, edged up. His eyes locked on hers looking for permission or denial. She looked down the length of her body at him, bit her lip. He took it as permission and put his mouth on her. The sensation was so overwhelming she cried out and jerked under him. He held her leg steady over his shoulder and licked up slowly. She cried out again and he used his other hand to keep her manageable under neath him as she thrashed. His tongue circled over her clitoris and then down until he was at her opening. He licked gently and she cried out. It was almost too much. She bucked under him.

"Easy, sweetheart," he whispered to her in a velvet tone. "Don't break my nose." His tongue edged inside her and Carrie gasped and involuntarily struggled against him. He held her steady, fingers digging in. He licked back to the front of her vulva again and slid a finger inside her. She cried out; her legs tried to shut. His tongue swirled around her as his finger explored and there was some pain as her body clenched down on him. She pushed off of him and Dean stilled.

"Stop." She whispered, overwhelmed, but her body was still arching toward him. He pushed a second finger into her and this really did sting.

He pressed inside of her and a pleasure built, making her shake. It was too intense. His tongue was on her again and her legs pushed against him. "You're so close, baby." He whispered. He was right. It only took a shift of his finger and something from his mouth and Carrie gasped and then started to cry. Her body clenched and contracted, and her legs were shaking as Dean let her off of his shoulder. He took his fingers out of her. She was shuddering and riding out the remnants of her orgasm and Dean was hurriedly yanking down his jeans and underwear.

He mounted her, wedged her leg open with his knee and guided himself in. It hurt. She gasped silently and clawed her fingers into his back.

He gave a her a second to adjust to his girth and then started to thrust. Carrie's stomach clenched at it but then her body gave under him and he kept repeatedly rocking into her. He didn't last long, his rhythm stuttered erratically and he groaned, her cry mixing with his. She was overwhelmed and her panting gasps turned into a sob.

She suppressed it as Dean tensed through his climax and pulled out and rolled off of her. His arm went over his flushed face. 

 Carrie tried to rein in her emotion. She didn't know what her problem was. Here he was, passionate, hungry and she was conflicted. --Eager, scared, her body a bit sore, and her emotions all over the place.

 She watched Dean's clothed chest rise and fall with each panting gasp of breath. She felt sticky from his sweat, her sweat, his saliva, their intimacy. She sat up, still shaken. 

 He had turned to watch her. "Hey. Sweetheart. You okay?" He asked gently.

 Carrie nodded but her eyes welled up. 

 He had that sleepy satisfied exhaustion about him but his eyes were suddenly interested. "You okay?" He slurred again, trying to get his wits about him. 

 "Yeah." She said again. 

 "C'mere." He gestured with his fingers. She crawled over to him and fell into the crook of his arm. "Too intense?" he asked.

 "Yeah." She said. 

 He sounded sleepy. She wondered if he was gonna nod off. His breaths coming deep and slow. 

 "Sorry," he slurred. "It's been long time."

She didn't answer him and sleep pulled him under, half-dressed like he was. T-shirt, pants around his knees, hiking boots still on. She snorted and let him sleep while she tried to sort through her emotions. 

 

 

 

* * *

 

Dean was out a long time. Deeply under and exhausted. Carrie rested in his arms for a while, gently petted his chest for a moment. He leaned his head into hers, still dozing, almost deep enough to catch his breath on an occasional snore. 

 Her gaze wandered down to his bare hips, the little divot in the muscle that formed a hollow next to his hip bone. The thatch of soft dark hair. The pale skin of him flaccid and the power of his thighs. 

 She extricated herself from his arms and cleaned herself up in the sink. She snuck to retrieve her underwear and jeans. She slipped them on and adjusted her over the knee socks-- making love with them and the t-shirt on had been kind of amazing...Clothed except for bare spots of thigh and ass. It was a nice sensation.

She was still overwhelmed by his insistence. He hadn't been rough really, but she hadn't felt as safe as she usually did with him. It felt like a statement rather than a question. It had shaken her a little. 

 But here he was asleep on the mattress, looking angelic in his repose. He hummed a little and she thought he might wake but instead it seemed like he was heading into a bad dream. 

 His brow furrowed in distress and he moved his leg uneasily.

Yes. He was moving there. 

 She went back over to him as his body twitched a little and settled back into the hollow of his arm. He jerked partly awake and she whispered, "Shhhhh" in his ear. "You're safe. It's just me."

He settled back down and she reached across and pet his strong jaw. Feather light and caressing. "You're safe." She whispered again. "Just Carrie."  

He hummed and fell back to sleep. He must have been exhausted. It was several hours later when he stirred and his eyes moved under his eyelids before they blinked open. They came to focus on her, lids at half mast.

"Hi." He whispered. 

 Carrie drank in his features affectionately. "Hi baby." 

 He wiped a hand across his eyes. "M so groggy." 

 "You were exhausted. You've been out for hours." 

 He blinked. "Don't hardly remember comin here." 

 That worried her. "You don't? Were you drinking?"

 "Always been drinking a little." He answered honestly. "Jus' tired." He rolled onto his stomach. "Rub my back?" 

"Of course." Her hand smoothed soothingly over the broad expanse of his shoulder blades. "My brave, tired baby." She said. 

 He smirked. "Like brave and tired. Not A baby." He muttered into the pillow. 

 "Yes you are. You're my baby." 

 "Kay." He whispered, docile. 

 "You getting sick?" she asked, concerned. 

 "Nah, tired. "

 She ran her hand down his back and over the curve of his bare ass. He jumped a little in surprise and looked down. He furrowed his brow and rolled back onto his side. "Did I fall asleep with my pants half off? "

 "Yes." She said. 

He laughed and reached down to gather his jeans and underwear. He adjusted himself and pulled them back up, leaving them undone. "Fuck, I was tired." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Still am." 

 Carrie reached up and slid her delicate fingers through his hair. Dean hummed his approval and leaned his head into her breast, still very much half asleep. 

 "Dean when is the last time you got a good night's rest?" she asked.

 He shrugged. "Dunno." 

 "You drove all the way out here this tired?" Her voice took on a maternally disapproving tone. 

 He gave her a clumsy little pat on the thigh. "M fine." He mumbled. 

 "You might not have been." 

"Wanted to be near you."

 That took the wind out of her sails and she petted back his bangs off of his forehead, noting if he had a fever. She didn't feel one. 

 She pressed her lips to the top of his head. His eyes had drifted shut again and she was wondering if he'd fallen back to sleep, but his arm snaked around her and he pulled her close, snug against his chest.

"Can rest here." He muttered. 

 Her arms went around him. "Shhhh." She whispered, feeling maternal and fond. She lipped the side of his ear. He leaned into her ministration. 

 "Still Wanna sleep." He told her. 

 "You can baby." She answered. "Nowhere to go." 

 "Stay?" 

 "I'm not leaving." Although she really wanted to get up but she figured she could do that once he was out again. 

 "Carrie?" 

 "What." 

 He didn't answer...he'd drifted off again. She waited a bit then got up and started to clean a little. She wished she'd had a Tylenol because he had been a bit rough in his over enthusiasm with her. She knew there had to be something in the cabin somewhere. 

Carrie wandered outside and started the fire. It was hot out but they'd need to fix something to eat. She had stuff in her car packed in a cooler. 

 She noted that he'd had the same thought... there was a cooler outside the door. She pulled out a can of soda and took a deep drink. He'd brought some hotdogs, some beer, some soda. Some chips. She'd been a little fancier. She had premade kabobs in her car trunk that she'd need to go get. She hadn't expected to be way laid in quite the way she had been. 

Dean came out to join her about an hour later. He looked better. He gave her his little smile, crinkled around his eyes. "Hey," he said huskily. "Toss me a beer."

 She did. He caught it, popped the tab. 

 "Feeling better?" She asked. 

 "Yeah," he said. "Hungry now though. Brought hotdogs. "

 "I brought stuff in my car. I have to go grab it." 

He walked over and took her hand, lacing his fingers in hers. "I'll come with you."

They set their drinks down and they started to stroll, ambling on the path to the car. 

 "Sorry I crashed on you." He said. 

She squeezed his hand. "You were tired."

"Knew I could get some rest out here." He said, matching his step to hers. 

"Why haven't you been sleeping?"

 He shrugged. "Work." 

"Take better care of yourself. I can't be there all the time. "

He smirked. "Okay mom. Don't know how I survived all these years without you." 

"Shut up, brat." 

He gave her his grin that was nothing but trouble. "Or what?" She snorted and he bumped his hip into her playfully. "You gonna punish me?"

 "Yes." She said, giving him a shove back. 

 "Gonna spank me?" He asked. 

"If you think you need it." 

"I'm a bad boy." He said. "So bad." 

"I know you are."

They reached her little Chevy cavalier and she opened the trunk. Dean was busy eying the car with the look of someone who knew what he was doing. He kicked the tire. "These are bald. You need to replace them." 

"I will when I get money." 

"You will now. It's dangerous." He crouched down and thumbed the tread. "I'll buy you a set and put em on." 

"Dean you don't have to..."

He stood up. "I want to." 

She pulled out the styrofoam cooler. It made a sloshing sound. Most of the ice had melted. 

 He frowned. "That sounds very... liquidy." 

 "Well I wasn't planning on leaving it in the car this long. Somebody way laid me." 

 "Call it an enthusiastic greeting," he said jovially, peering in her backseat. Her work uniform caught her eye. 

"Scrubs?" he asked.

"Yeah. I took classes and got my degree. I'm a nurse."

"I thought you helped your dad maintain the property." 

"I do that too. The hospital is part time for now." 

He turned to look at her and there was something dark and flirtatious in his eye. 

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing." He ran his thumb along the edge of the closed car door. "I have a thing for nurses." 

"Dean, I don't wear those little white skirts and stockings like in the movies. "

"Scrubs are hot." He said. 

She snorted. "They are?"

"Uh huh." 

"Are you hinting that you want me to wear that?"

He shrugged. "Maaybe." 

He walked over to her and took the cooler out of her hands, set it on the roof of the car. 

"What are you doing?"

"I think I have a fever," he said 

She laughed. "You're a tard." 

"You have a bad bedside manner, miss." 

"Dean." She cocked her head and took in his mischievous expression. "What am I gonna do with you?"

He shrugged. Smiled. "Are you open to suggestions?" 

 

 

 


End file.
